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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270666">G I V I N G</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olympea/pseuds/Olympea'>Olympea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Bobby Singer, Banter, Bees, Blood, Bonding, Brotherhood, Car Accidents, Castiel (Supernatural) is a good friend, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Chuck Shurley is Castiel's Parent, Dean Winchester Loves Movies, Dean Winchester-centric, Developing Friendships, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt Dean Winchester, Injured Dean Winchester, Injury, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, John Winchester being himself, Married Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, Mentioned Chuck Shurley, Mentioned John Winchester - Freeform, Movie Night, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prank Wars, Sam Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Sam Winchester is So Done with Dean Winchester, Swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:00:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olympea/pseuds/Olympea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides to visit Sam, who left for Stanford two years ago and only got back in contact with his brother a few months earlier, to rekindle their relationship. It's not easy, because Dean is annoying and Sam is easily annoyed, but Dean tries to make it work.</p><p> </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Dean Winchester, Crowley (Supernatural) &amp; Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey, this is my first work in this fandom and I hope it's good lol. English isn't my first language, so there might be mistakes. Feel free to tell me about them!<br/>I hope you enjoy this (kinda short) story! ^^</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bold smile his big brother gave him made Sam nearly hit Dean. “Dean, what are you doing here?” he asked confused, eyes falling on the bags his brother was carrying, a sense of dread washed over him. He loved his brother, he really did, but no.<br/>
<br/>
“Sammy! I came to visit you. I was worried ya know?” with that the green-eyed man pressed himself into Sam’s apartment “Not like you call or answer the phone like- ever.” He mumbled before grinning back at his brother, who had the decency to look at least somewhat guilty.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t overreact okay? Also, you’ve been here what? A few months ago? It’s not like we haven’t seen each other in years.” Sam rolled his eyes and closed the front door. Dean gave a weak grin with his back turned to the long-haired man. Yeah, sure.<br/>
His little brother left two years ago and hadn’t bothered to even pick up his damn phone until a few months back, where he asked Dean to look after his dogs for a week because he had to go on some sort of trip. Said dogs came up to Dean now, excitedly greeting him. Riot, an active Australian Shepherd and Bones, a friendly but calmer Golden Retriever. Grinning he bent down to pet both whispering a gleeful “Missed me?” before getting back up and turning around again to his brother.<br/>
“You’re still my little brother Sammy, even though you’re a giant.” Dean joked.<br/>
<br/>
“Sam.” corrected said little brother. His eyes focused on the bags again, eyebrows raising. “How long are you planning to stay?”<br/>
<br/>
Dean shrugged and grinned again. “For as long as it takes for you to understand that you call your older brother once in a while.” He lectured and made his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “And for as long as it takes for you to have proper food.” <br/><br/>

Sam gave him one of his best bitch faces “Healthy food is food, Dean.” <br/><br/>

Looking at the taller sceptically he said: “Your weird salad shakes? Yeah, sure.” <br/><br/>

The annoyance on Sam’s face turned up a notch. “I’m not a child anymore. I am an adult, I don’t have to call you every day.” The long-haired man pointed out. <br/><br/>

“You do.” Dean said, grinning cheekily again. “Dean-” but said man just raised his hand to stop his brothers angry rant. “Yeah, yeah I know. But you know me well enough to know you won’t get rid of me.” Dean got himself a beer out of the fridge. <em>Light.</em> His face scrunched up a little in disgust. Sam had no taste. But it was definitely better than the other atrocities in there, it had to do.<br/>
Catching the more than unhappy look on Sam’s face, Dean decided to make a step in his direction. <br/><br/>

“Look, its not gonna be that bad okay? I’m sure you’re busy. I can help you out with the dogs so you can focus on becoming a badass lawyer. Also, I’m your brother, so you don’t have to treat me like a guest and be with me all the time. Or you don’t have to try to even start treating me like a guest, which you obviously suck at. That’s not saying were not spending time, but it’s not like I don’t have a life of my own, okay? Take a deep breath, Sammy, it’s going to be fun.” His brother, still looking unhappy, gave in, knowing he wouldn’t get Dean to leave right now. The green-eyed man slept on the couch, exhausted from the way here.<br/>
When the Winchester woke up the next morning, Sam was gone. Dean wasn’t surprised, his brother went to college after all. So, eager to make himself useful he got up, got himself ready and then went on a walk with the dogs. Because he went on walks with the dogs before, he knew about that one park not far from the apartment, which he was now heading for. Dean was in a good mood, and watching Riot and Bones enjoying their little trip only strengthened this positive feeling. After a while he allowed himself and Bones some rest, deciding to sit down on a park bench. Taking in his surroundings, Dean spotted a guy standing not far from him, wearing a trench coat and looking- thoroughly confused.<br/>
“Hey man, do you need help?” he asked and the guy looked at him now, taking a step forward as if to take up on that offer, before taking an unsure step to the side, as if declining and then looking back at Dean. Dean furrowed his brows at this little confusion dance. <br/><br/>

“Do you happen to know where I can find baked goods?” his blue eyes looked way too serious “What?” Dean asked, thrown off by his weird behaviour and way of talking, which seemed to only confuse the man in front of him more. <br/><br/>

“Baked goods. Baked goods are cooked by baking, a method of cooking food that uses prolonged dry heat, normally in an oven-” he tried to explain with a sincerity that only threw Dean off more. <br/><br/>

“Wow, okay dude. Thanks, but I know what you’re talking about.” the Winchester explained before he got even more of that Wikipedia entry. <br/><br/>

“But- you asked?” the blue-eyed guy said, tilting his head. <br/><br/>

“Yeah, because- you know what? Forget it. Look, I think there is a bakery nearby, you just have to leave the park right over there, then turn left and walk about two blocks and then make another left turn. The third shop, I think. Something along the lines of… <em>Hot Oven</em> or so, don’t know for sure man.” The brown-haired stranger nodded occasionally, squinting thoughtfully. <br/><br/>

“Your advice is certainly helpful, thank you.” “No problem, man.” Dean smiled, this guy was a weirdo, but his serious sincerity and slight naivety was somehow refreshing. He leaned down to pet the dogs, while watching the stranger leave. <br/><br/>

“What a strange, strange guy huh?” he asked them quietly, grinning a bit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading so far, for the Kudos and the comment ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nothing important happened the next days. The older Winchester was bored, it felt like Sam had avoided him, but Dean knew he was busy studying. It was Friday evening and Sam was reaching for his jacket. “Hey, where are you going?” Dean asked, making his way over to his brother. </p><p>“I’m going out.” </p><p>“Cool, where are we going?” he asked excited. </p><p>Sam laughed a bit “No, Dean. I’m going out. Listen, I’m meeting up with some friends from college.” Sam was too busy checking his pockets to see Dean deflate a bit. </p><p>Putting on a convincing fake grin and good mood he said “Honestly Sam? I’ve been asking you to go out all the time.” The green-eyed Winchester made it sound like a bit of a joke, not eager to initiate a fight. </p><p>“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. But we spend so much time together anyway, and you would only feel out of place there. I really gotta go now, don’t wait for me.” And with that, he was gone. </p><p>“That went great, huh?” he asked and sat on the ground to pet the dogs.<br/>
“You know what? Fuck him.” he grumbled, getting back up and taking the spare keys Sam lend him for the time being before he left as well. Because he was Dean Winchester, and not a lot of people got to tell him what to do. He wasn’t a child anymore and Sam was younger than him, he could go wherever he wanted. </p><p>It wasn’t his plan to end up in the same bar as Sam did, really not. And for a second, he wanted to go over there, but he stopped. His brother was surrounded by people Dean didn’t know, and Sammy was smiling and laughing brightly. He really fit here, and he was right, Dean probably didn’t. He knew he was a fuck-up and Sam- fuck, Sammy deserved the whole damn world, nothing Dean had to offer. So, he smiled and looked for a corner where he could be alone and unseen. He really didn’t want to fight.<br/>
He sat there, for god knows how long, drinking his beer. After a while he got his phone out sending a text to his girlfriend Claire.</p><p>
  <em>Hey, what’s up?</em>
</p><p>Waiting for a response, taking another sip. They had dated for quite some time, when Claire had moved to New York for a job offer, they had a long distance relationship for about seven months now. Claire was beautiful, funny and smart. Short black hair framing a slim, freckled face. She was his first commitment after Lisa, he trusted her almost as much as he trusted his family, but more than his best friends, Mark and Daniel.</p><p>“Well hello.” Dean looked up and came face to face with a guy with short black hair and a black beard, wearing a fancy suit. He had seen him hanging out with Sam earlier. </p><p>“Hey.” </p><p>“The name is Crowley, pleased to meet you.” Dean raised his eyebrows confused but kept on smiling. </p><p>“I’m Dean.” the reply seemed to be enough of an invitation for the man to sit down opposite to the Winchester. For a second, he wondered if Crowley knew he was Sam’s brother.</p><p>“So, Dean, what brings you here?” Crowley asked, taking a sip from a glass filled with a dark liquid. Whiskey, maybe. </p><p>“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” he chuckled. </p><p>“You looked lonely.” Dean leaned back, crossing his arms in front of himself, still grinning. </p><p>“Wow, okay. No, I’m not, but thank you for your concern.” Crowley, who seemed to be in a good mood mixed with a hint of arrogance all the time, mimicked his movement. </p><p>“I wouldn’t dare to offend you sir.” He said with fake concern. A laugh escaped Dean. </p><p>“Of course.” He played along.</p><p>They didn’t speak for a long moment after this. Both lost in their own thoughts. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but not comfortable either. Dean supposes it would have been uncomfortable if he wasn’t feeling this light buzz from the alcohol. It’s not like he’s drunk, but he was relaxed enough to not really care or at least not feel awkward about the situation. Shame always got knocked out from alcohol first for him. </p><p>“What are you drinking?” he asked then, leaning forward on his elbows interestedly. </p><p>The scowl Crowley used to glower at the drink in his hand mixed with a little “Something that isn’t really worth my time.” made Dean bark out a laugh. </p><p>“What would you like to be drinking instead, Majesty?” and Crowley looked up with a judging expression before answering: “Thanks for paying me the respect I deserve, but a peasant like you wouldn’t know good alcohol if it was to be forced down your throat.” He answered with a side glance on Deans beer. </p><p>And maybe Dean should have felt offended, but he laughed. Because it’s not like Dean didn’t know the difference between good and bad liquor, but he wasn’t picky enough with what he drank to argue. Beer was his go-to. He barely used it when he was intending to get hammered, maybe when he was in a good mood, or intending to get drunk slowly. Some kind of Whiskey, whatever he could get his hand on in that moment, when he was in a terrible -like <em>really terrible</em>- mood. He would take one to a few glasses or when he was in a terrible mood <em>and</em> wanted to knock himself out, the whole bottle. And the worse he felt, the cheaper the stuff got. Because there was this weird comfort in drinking something that tasted and burned like fuel.<br/>
He didn’t do that last one so often, but when he did the barkeepers would give him funny looks.</p><p><em>Yeah, I would like the cheapest Whiskey you have to offer. No, no I really mean cheap. Yes, I’m sure. No, I’m not looking for something that is cheap, I am looking for your </em>cheapest<em> liquor. Okay, thank you.</em></p><p>That’s that.</p><p>“I thought I’ve seen you over there with a group of people. Why are you hanging around me?” Dean asked then. </p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Most of them are monkeys on crack, I needed a break.” </p><p>Dean laughed again “You sure are dramatic.” Crowley chuckled. </p><p>“You should meet them.” He spit. </p><p>“Aren’t they your friends?” the green-eyed questioned. </p><p>He made an inquisitive sound “That’s to be seen. Okay Deano-” “Not the name.” “You want to go somewhere else?”<br/>
Dean's laughing again “Usually I am picking others up in bars.” He jokes. </p><p>“Sorry to hurt your feelings darling, but you aren’t my type.” </p><p>Putting a hand above his heart with faked hurt “How is that supposed to <em>not</em> hurt my feelings?” he relaxed then, smiling again “Where are you planning to go?” the Winchester took a last sip from his beer. </p><p>“I don’t know, I just need fresh air.” Leaving his glass behind, Crowley stood up. Dean decided to follow him, he was able to defend himself if Crowley turned out to be a threat, so he wasn’t too worried.<br/>
When they made their way outside, thankfully unseen by Sam, they headed nowhere in particular. They just walked around. Crowley was certainly a character, but somehow, Dean liked him, he enjoyed his company.</p><p>When Dean came home that night, he has had a good day and maybe, just maybe, a friend.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello again, thanks to everyone who is reading the story, givingKudos and the Bookmark, have a great day!<br/>I hope you enjoy the chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day Dean was back in the park, playing fetch with the dogs, when he saw the strange trench-coat-wearer again. He seemed to be calm this time, instead of distressed. Dean grinned and raised his hand in greeting. The man did the same before coming over. “Hello.” The blue-eyed said.</p>
<p>“Hey man, you found that bakery?” Dean asked watching the dogs greeting the stranger, calling them back when he noticed how uncomfortable the guy got. </p>
<p>“Yes, I found the bakery.” the Winchester nodded before questioning: “What are you looking for this time?” </p>
<p>The stranger squinted as if he was trying to understand where that question came from. “Why should I be looking for something?” <br/>Dean started laughing. </p>
<p>“It was a joke. Whatever. What are you doing here?” he said instead. </p>
<p>“I understand. I think. I am admiring nature, it is truly beautiful.” </p>
<p>The blonde looked around, before he smiled again “Yeah, you’re right. It’s kinda peaceful, I guess.” Then he patted the space next to him on the bench. The man sat down and stared into nowhere. “I’m Dean, by the way.” He introduced himself.</p>
<p>“Castiel.” </p>
<p>They spent a while in silence before Dean says: “You do that often? Just looking at nature?” he got a nod “Is that your only hobby or what are you doing when you don’t show mother nature your admiration?” Castiel looks confused by this statement, as if Dean is the one talking in an unusual way. </p>
<p>“I do like finding out more about bees.” </p>
<p>Dean chuckled “That’s nature to me. How about… favourite movies?” Castiel frowned. </p>
<p>“I don’t see the point in watching movies.” The Winchester looked at the brown-haired man as if he was an alien. </p>
<p>“You what?! Man, you never lived. Have you like, tried? You must have seen at least one movie.” </p>
<p>He was confused. “I did see a few movies, but they were not that interesting.” </p>
<p>Dean shook his head, making Castiel look at him “Dude, you can’t just go and hate on movies because someone in your life has shitty taste and only shows you crap.” He sounded angry. “Look” Dean turned so that he was completely facing Castiel, who did the same. “There are a million different types of movies. Multiple genres, stories, directors, actors and so on. There is a movie out there for everyone. That makes you happy or excited, that you can watch on bad days, movies are great.” </p>
<p>Watching the guy in front of him talk so passionately about movies, in a weird way that even made sense, Castiel found himself taken aback. But also, interested. “Man, you need to give movies a chance. And when you do - you hear <em>when</em>, not<em> if </em>– come around, okay? I will find you this favourite movie, don’t trust the people you’ve trusted before, okay?” he put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, who looked confused once more. </p>
<p>“My family is trustworthy.” He tried to explain, before he added “Most times.” Dean grinned at Castiel at that. </p>
<p>“No offense to your family, but they don’t know their movies.” </p>
<p>“If they watched the movie, surely they would know about it.” </p>
<p>Dean started laughing “Castiel, your weird, but I like you.” Castiel felt warm inside when he heard those words. </p>
<p>“I don’t see how that makes sense.” He said anyway. </p>
<p>“Sometimes things don’t make sense.” Dean told him, smiling so brightly you could see his teeth. “You have a phone?” </p>
<p>Castiel took the device out of his pocket “Why?” Dean took it, tipping something before handing it back. </p>
<p>“Movie-Man” Castiel read out frowning. </p>
<p>“I gave you my number. Like I said, if you ever hear films crying out to you or you’re curious, give me a call. I’ll make you open your eyes.” </p>
<p>“But my eyes are open?” and Dean decided to mess with him “All the time?” </p>
<p>Castiel then got a faraway look, eyes flicking from side to side, deep in thought. <br/>“No, but why should I need help opening my eyes?” this was way too funny, but he decided to show mercy. </p>
<p>“I didn’t mean that literal, dude. All I was trying to express was that I plan on making you realize that movies are great, okay? Don’t overwork yourself.” Chuckling he got up. “The dogs are getting antsy, I better power them out for a while so they don’t break the apartment. Bye.” He waved once more and left. </p>
<p>“Goodbye.” Castiel replied and looked back at his phone, lost in thought about this strange person.</p>
<p>When he was back at Sam’s apartment his brother was cooking in the kitchen. Leaving the dogs to fend for themselves for now, he took a seat at the table, watching the tall guy moving in the small room. “Hey, you wanna hang out tonight?” </p>
<p>Sam didn’t stop chopping the onions “Dean we hang out every day.”  </p>
<p>A sigh escaped him “No Sammy just because we’re under the same roof doesn’t mean we hang out. We could go to a bar, or watch a movie, or you can show me if there’s anything interesting in this area.” Dean said. </p>
<p>His brother let out a breath “I don’t know. Dean, look, I still got a lot of work to do. I told you from the start that I don’t have time. And, when are you planning to leave? It’s not like I don’t want you here” Dean huffed silently and rolled his eyes. <em>Sure</em>. “But admit it, you’re bored, and I don’t have the time to humour you.” </p>
<p>He felt weirdly numb. Sam turned around then, looking at him with this pitiful expression. As if Dean was a toddler that just lost his pet. </p>
<p>He felt like hitting Sam. </p>
<p>“We can spend Christmas together, Jessica” his girlfriend, who Dean hasn’t even met “will be with her family over the holidays and you could come over then, I’d have more time.” </p>
<p>Dean smiles then, he doesn’t mean it as much as he’d like, and fears Sam might see through it. But Sam doesn’t, because they haven’t seen each other in two years and Dean doesn’t know whether he likes being able to pull it off or not. </p>
<p>“I’d like that, but I’m needed here.” </p>
<p>Sam laughs “For what?” drawing invisible circles on the table with his hand Dean answers, “Making sure you don’t waste your life.” His brother obviously disagrees, before turning back around to finish his dinner. The smile fades from his face. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry Dean, but right now is just inconvenient. And don’t you have a job you should return to?” </p>
<p>Dean shrugs “I make time for my beloved brother.” He says with a sickening sweet tone. </p>
<p>Sam huffs out a laugh “But you don’t have to.” </p>
<p>“Come on Sammy, do your old brother a favour.” He tries again. </p>
<p>“I can’t, sorry.” The younger one gives him an apologetic smile before he takes a bowl with some green stuff with him. </p>
<p>The green-eyed man lets his head lay down on the table, taking a deep breath, before getting back up, deciding to put more pressure on his brother.</p>
<p>Sam was sitting on his desk, eating and typing and pointedly ignoring Dean. Taking advantage of this, the older brother decided to look around. </p>
<p>The desk was only study stuff, together with the whole wall where it stood. Flyers for courses or book offers or communities. Work sheets, books, notes. Sometimes Dean wondered if he could have gone to college as well. Not that he would have made it into a college like Stanford, but somewhere else. He liked being a mechanic, he really did. Cars were his passion, but back then he had always believed that there was no hope for him and that every cent spent on higher education was a loss when it came to him. Nobody had believed in him and so Dean didn’t either. But Sammy, Sammy was smart enough to be in Stanford. </p>
<p>The other wall was all windows, bed and a couch and the last one was filled with more personal stuff. Sam’s first soccer award. Dean smiled brightly, pride filing his chest. He remembered that day. There were other awards as well, Dean had been present for each one. His hand tapped over the spines of battered old books, he remembered Sam reading over and over in his free time, that old bore, and newer books, that Dean hadn’t ever seen before. There were pictures on the wall. Many of them, of many strangers and many moments that he didn’t know and wasn’t part of. </p>
<p>He turned back to his brother. “Sam, come on, we could just talk, we don’t even have to go anywhere.” </p>
<p>Sam gave him an annoyed look. “Just leave me alone, okay?” </p>
<p>Deciding to not provoke a fight, he headed for the door.</p>
<p>Dean looked back at the picture wall, straining to see his face somewhere in between the flood of strangers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello again,and thank you for reading and the Kudo!Enjoy the Chapter ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean Winchester was a fighter. Has been almost his whole life. And while he had great experience when it came to physical fights, he also had knowledge in the field of psychological battles. Sam was resisting some good’ol bonding time with his big brother, so he might have to force him a bit to pay attention to him. Hence it was time for a prank war, like in the old days. </p><p>Sam wasn’t excited, to say the least.</p><p>Dean had received multiple condescending looks and bitch faces together with curses and reprimanding talks. But Sam hadn’t given in yet, so Dean wouldn’t give up. After itching powder and stinky shampoo Dean had put little pebble stones in Sam’s shoes and exchanged the water bottle in his bag with a beer and his ringtone was now Britney Spears’ Toxic. He had made sure to call Sam every now and then.<br/>
Now he was sitting on the couch, waiting for his victim to come home.<br/>
The door opened with a bang. Sam was obviously upset. </p><p>“Dean.” he had a threatening tone. “This has to stop.” Sam burst out scowling as soon as he saw Dean sitting on his couch, grinning at him expectantly.<br/>
Only spurred on by Deans provoking grin he started pacing aggressively. “You can’t just do that, okay? I am studying law at Stanford, we’re not in high school anymore!” Deans grin only widened, Sam threw his hands up in the air and yelled exasperated “You’re unbelievable Dean, grow up!” before storming off. Dean gave it a few seconds before there was a: “Oh my god Dean, honestly? How many porn websites do you even know? What’s wrong with you?!”<br/>
He burst out laughing instead of answering.</p><p>And Dean would never tell anyone how happy he was when he found his hand stuck with glue to one of those atrocious light beers from Sam’s fridge, or saw that his favourite white shirt turned pink, or the black moustache drawn on his face. </p><p>He got his revenge with a monobrow. “Dean we should make peace.” Sam offered, looking at him with a frown, which only made it harder to take him seriously with that eyebrow thing going on. </p><p>The older Winchester suppressed a laugh. “Okay.” Sam exhaled in relief. </p><p>“If” the taller brother tensed again “You finally spend some time with your dearest brother.” </p><p>Sam shook his head exasperated “Oh god, okay, fine.” </p><p>Dean grinned in victory, which made Sam’s eyes stick to the moustache. “You look like a threat to society.” bursting out laughing he countered “You look like you are a virgin living in your grandma’s basement.” Sam gave in and started laughing too.</p><p>“I wanted to go to the gym and then grab something to eat, you can tag along if you want.” The younger one said and grinned mischievous. Sam was aware that Dean usually didn’t work out. Dean got himself into bar fights or carried heavy boxes at work, but that was it. Dean’s body was athletic in some ways, but not as athletic as Sam. It was a trick to either make Dean change his mind or at least make him suffer his way through it. But Dean was stubborn and a fighter, so he didn’t back off. </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>That’s how he found himself in some gym, sweating and suffering in general. </p><p>“Honestly, I-” a deep breath “I don’t get how you can enjoy this.” </p><p>Sam, who wasn’t breathing nearly as heavily as Dean only replied: “A healthy lifestyle has it’s perks. You should try working out and eating less fast food and pies.” </p><p>Only his pride helped him carry through “Hey, don’t attack, pie, pie is great. And how bad can it be, it’s fruit pie, fruit is healthy.” He argued with as much anger he could muster, stumbling down from whatever torture bench he had been on. </p><p>Sam, making it look effortless to get down, that fucker, rolled his eyes. “That’s not how it works.” The long-haired man started the next exercise. </p><p>“Sure bitch.” The green-eyed one followed begrudgingly. </p><p>“Jerk.” Sam shot back.<br/>
Theyleft the gym and Sam said: “I’m proud of you, you know? I expected you to give up and cry.” Dean rolled his eyes at his brothers’ remark, not admitting that he almost did. </p><p>“Well, Sammy, I am full of surprises.” They entered the shop and sat down at a table. “Thank god.” The dark blonde cried out leaning back. Sam, who seemed to enjoy his brothers’ pain, called over a waiter and they ordered food.</p><p>“So, are you happy here?” Dean inquired, biting down on a fry, watching his brother who nodded </p><p>“Mhm, yeah. I am. The people here are friendly, and I like studying law.” The older brother smiled.</p><p>“Of course you do, nerd.” Sam grinned, knowing to not take some of the things Dean said too seriously. </p><p>“And you?” </p><p>Dean looked up questioningly “Me?” </p><p>“Yeah, you. What are you doing?” for a second, Dean didn’t reply. </p><p>“You know, the usual. I am a man of habit.” He grinned proudly, taking a bite from his burger, deciding to change the topic “So, Jessica.” And the smile on Sam’s face was a certain kind of warm that made Dean really fucking happy. </p><p>“What about her?” taking another fry to point it at his brother Dean said: “What, <em>‘what about her’</em>, man? She’s your girlfriend, I haven’t even seen her. Tell me something.” Taking a look out of the window, watching stranger pass, Sam thought for a moment. When he turned back to face his brother, he explained how he met Jessica at his first party in college. </p><p>He had wanted to ask her about something, and she had started to yell at him that ‘Scott could go and fuck himself’, before turning around and realizing that Sam in fact wasn’t Scott. Jessica had apologized profusely and offered to get him a drink. They spent the whole party hanging out and talking. Not shortly after they went on their first date and it just worked out.<br/>
It was like from a chick-flick, and damn, Sam deserved that.</p><p>Dean smiled “Yeah, but is she good in bed?”</p><p>Sam threw his fork at him “You are unbelievable Dean!” said Winchester avoided losing an eye and started laughing. </p><p>“No, come on Sammy. I am happy for you. Really.” He genuinely said and received a smile back. </p><p>“How is Dad?” Sam asked then, looking at his empty plate. The now tense atmosphere was no surprise, when Sam had left two years ago, they had fought horribly and not talked since. </p><p>“Good, I think. You know him, always moving.” </p><p>A low chuckle came in response “Yeah, that’s Dad.”<br/>
When Dean fell asleep that night, he was happy. It felt like he was finally going in the right direction.</p><p>
  <em>How about a drink?</em>
</p><p>Dean put on his jacket and left his apartment, much more excited than he would admit. Crowley had sent him a message the next day, asking to go out. Dean had agreed and now found himself taking a seat across the classy and dramatic man in the bar they’ve met before. “Well hello.” Crowley greeted, raising his glass. The Winchester grinned and responded with his own greeting, taking a drag from his beer. They talked for a while, falling easily into a rhythm of teasingly insulting each other and discussing things. Though they weren’t always the same opinion, Dean found himself enjoying the man’s company. </p><p>“You’re not from here are you?” the man asked then and he answered: “No, I’m from Kansas. I am visiting my brother. But you aren’t from here either, right?” </p><p>Crowley replied “Grew up in Scotland, but I decided to leave that atrocious land. Now I’m here, in between modern hippies and salad zombies.” Dean chuckled. “That’s not your style either, am I right?” Crowley inquired and Dean raised an eyebrow before nodding “Yeah, no. It’s my brothers though, he’s flourishing, it’s almost disgusting.” </p><p>The green-eyed grinned “No, I’m happy.” He added nodding. </p><p>“If that ain’t cute.” Crowley added in a fake sweet tone and Dean laughed, reaching across the table to smack Crowley on the shoulder. </p><p>“Always so harsh my love.” The dark haired went on. </p><p>“You old flirt! Don’t make me blush.” The Winchester added. They spent about two hours more like this and then they said goodbye. </p><p>On his way home, Dean started thinking. He would consider them friends. And that was kind of nice. </p><p>Taking out his phone he called an old friend from high-school, Mark. “Hey Dean! Look, I would really like to talk to you right now, but I am super busy, you know, studying biology is hard man! I’ll call you back okay?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, thank you for reading and enjoy the Chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One and a half weeks have passed now, and his mission wasn’t finished yet, but today wouldn’t be a Sam day, no. Castiel had texted him and that meant movie night. Dean had warned that blue-eyed weirdo, this would be a life changing night. They would stay at Castiel’s place and Dean would get everything ready.</p><p>He swallowed nervously before pressing the doorbell. Playing through his way here again, checking the address again and if he was correct. The Winchester found himself in the rich part of town, in front of some huge ass house. </p><p>
  <em>Novak, hm. </em>
</p><p>The door opened and in front of him was a rather small man, with longer brown hair and light brown eyes. “Hello?” He answered giving him a questioning look. </p><p>“Hi, um, I’m here for Castiel.” Dean explained, clutching the bag to his chest. The man’s eyes slid down to said item before he raised an eyebrow “And who are you?” straightening his back a little he responded “Dean, a friend.” He explains. </p><p>The stranger smiles “Cassie has friends?” and Dean frowns in confusion. “Cassie, your friend is here.” He called behind him and then gave Dean one last look before turning around and leaving. </p><p>Castiel passed whoever had greeted him and simply nodded once “Dean.” Before showing him to follow. The corners of his mouth lifted. </p><p>He tried not to stare, but that was difficult, the entrance was already really imposing. “I hope Gabriel wasn’t rude.” Castiel said before opening the door to the or at least a living room. Dean shook his head, sitting down on the fancy couch next to Castiel. The room wasn’t that big, a few windows, a Tv, a couch and a few comfy looking chairs, a soft looking rug beneath a table in front of the couch and some plants in corners.</p><p>“This is the small living room. We are less likely to be disturbed by my…” he seemed to be looking for the right word “difficult brothers.” </p><p>So, Dean had been right.<em> A</em> living room, not <em>the</em> living room. Man, those people were rich. </p><p>“Gabriel is one of your brothers?” Castiel nodded shorty before looking expectantly at Dean. </p><p>The Winchester could feel the excitement bubbling up again. “Okay, are you prepared-” raising a hand to stop his friend, who seemed like he wanted to answer “You don’t have to be, okay? I am prepared. So, I have food, drinks and movies.” He took each item out, laying them on the table. “You ever had fast food?” he asked, because Castiel kept on surprising him. </p><p>Fulfilling his expectations Castiel shook his head. Dean gave him an incredulous look anyway “Dude.” He muttered disbelieving, which made Castiel look at him like the lost puppy he was. “Don’t worry, you’ll be living by tomorrow.” He added before taking the movies in his hand. “Okay, I have a battleplan.”<br/>
Needless to say, Castiel was confused. “I mean I made a plan how I’ll make you fall in love with movies. Or at least make you like them. I figured you have a bad connection to them because you haven’t found the right ones yet, so we’ll start with something you will definitely like.” </p><p>Dean smiled and pulled the bee documentary out showing it to the dark brown-haired man. Castiel looked interested. “Come on, work some magic. I don’t know how this expensive stuff works.” The green-eyed asked and Castiel complied. </p><p>Dean was mostly bored throughout the movie, some things were interesting but that was it, Castiel though, was all excited. </p><p>“So, how was it?” he inquired, watching a smile grow on his friends’ face. </p><p>“Informative. I was able to get a deeper insight into-” and from that on Dean didn’t understand a word, but he grinned and nodded. “I didn’t expect that seeing how the process works could help me gather a new perspective.” Feeling accomplished, Dean pulled out the next one. Another movie about bees, but this time less informative. Castiel liked that one as well. They started eating the food, Castiel seemed to be a fan of burgers. </p><p>“I feel like a proud parent man. And a bit like a demon tempting you to sins and corruption of the soul.” His friend looked at him disbelievingly, cheeks stuffed with burger. Dean started laughing.</p><p>They watched movie after movie, some Castiel enjoyed, others he didn’t. But that was okay.<br/>
Their attention span diminished gradually, until Dean didn’t even know what movie they were even watching. </p><p>“What happened?” he asked Castiel, who turned to look at him, squinting before he whispered: “I don’t know.” and Dean started to laugh. </p><p>“Okay, tell me something about you Castiel Novak.” The woman on the screen started yelling at whoever. </p><p>The brown-haired male answered, “I have four brothers, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael and Gabriel.” He explained and Dean raised his eyebrows “Man, that’s pretty- religious.” Castiel didn’t respond to this and instead went on “My father has been away often in the past but lately he is around more and tried to mend old relationships.” Dean nodded understandingly. </p><p>“You get along?” he asked, grabbing a cold fry from the table. </p><p>“I am not sure yet. I wanted him to be there for the most part of my life, and when he finally showed up, I don’t know, it was different from what I expected. It’s just, I waited so long and…” he waited a moment, but his friend didn’t continue “What?” he asked turning to look at him. </p><p>He looked torn, before he let out a breath and gave in “He has always been a little absent more and more so over the years and then he and my brother Lucifer had a really horrible fight, he threw Lucifer out and a bit later he left and didn’t come back for four years. We all- we missed him. And now he is back, and he allowed my brother to move in again, which took a while, Lucifer is still mad, and-” he gathered his thoughts for a second “I wish he would put as much work into our relationship as he does for my brother. I don’t enjoy feeling like that. I mean, I never doubted him, I put my faith and love in this man, all this time, and I never expected to be so- completely and utterly disappointed in him as I was when I saw him standing in front of the door five months ago.” The same woman that had been yelling in the movie earlier was now crying. </p><p>Dean looked at the ceiling for a moment “You know, I get what you’re feeling and why you are feeling like that.” And Dean hesitated before adding: “You know, I don’t think it is possible for me to-” he hesitated again, he hated those weird chick-flick moments. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to be happy if my brother isn’t happy. If you tell anyone or ever mention this again, I swear I will kill you and make it look like an accident” he threatened seriously, before hurriedly continuing “So, it is okay for me, that my Dad treats him differently than me sometimes, but some night many years ago, we were children and outside was a thunderstorm, and I was scared, and Dad told me that I should go back to sleep, because I am a big boy. And sometime later, when my brother approached him for the same reason, he held him the whole night.<br/>
You see, I was happy that my Dad gave him the comfort he needed but I wished he would have at least told me that it’s unlikely to get hit by lightning and I would survive the night.” He took a drag from his drink, watching how in the movies some guy held the crying woman’s hands, saying words he didn’t comprehend “Maybe I would have felt a little more like it then.” </p><p>The Winchester chuckled “The point is, Castiel, that it’s normal to feel like that, it doesn’t make you a bad person. Some day we grow up and see that our superhero Dad is just as much a human as everyone else, he has flaws and makes mistakes, and that’s okay, because you can’t change that, so <em>it has to be</em> okay. And it might just seem that one of those flaws for your Dad is, not seeing that just because he created the most damage to Lucifer, it doesn’t mean you and your other brothers didn’t hurt. The only way he can learn from mistakes is when he knows he did them. So, I mean <em>I</em> probably shouldn’t give that advice, but maybe you should- I don’t know… talk to him.” Castiel nodded thoughtfully.</p><p>The end credits were rolling when the blue-eyed spoke up “I think I get what you like about them.” Talking about movies and sounding convinced. </p><p>Dean smiled at his behaviour, happy that the topic changed. “Then I did it. Hey, it’s late, I should go home.” They cleaned up and Dean started packing his back. Stopping at one of the movies. It was some dramatic comedy, about dealing with tragedies and finding the meaning of life. Castiel had liked the movie the most, even though he didn’t understand every joke, Dean had taken the time to explain them patiently when needed, until Castiel got them. He had appreciated the humour more times than not, and the comedy balanced out the heavy scenes. Mixed with the whole looking for the meaning of life, which presented enough material to think about, it suited Castiel’s taste. </p><p>So, the Winchester said: “You remember what I said about favourite movies?” Castiel stopped to think back before answering: “You said that there is a movie out there for everyone. That makes you happy or excited, that you can watch on bad days.” He recited, Dean furrowed his brows confused “That was weirdly specific, but yes. And I don’t know how many movies you will watch after tonight, and who knows what favourite movie you might eventually find, but until then, this can be your movie.” He smiled in a way that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle and gave the case with the DVD to Castiel. </p><p>The Novak glanced unsurely on the gift “Are you sure?” The dark blonde nodded and earned himself a rare smile. “Thank you.” And Castiel sounded so genuine that Dean’s own smile grew. </p><p>“Don’t sweat it. Whatever,” he shied a bit away “it’s late, I don’t want to bother you any longer, if you feel like another movie night call me.” </p><p>“I will.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know I am only repeating myself, but as always, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy this longer than usual chapter.<br/>Also, thank you for the kudo!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean wasn’t proud of this. But he was desperate, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. Sam was after all trying to avoid him, but he had sneaked into his brothers room and looked at his calendar only to find out that his younger brother had some free time, so he packed a few bags, only  necessities like food and water and some spare clothes, which he put into the trunk of his wonderful car. <br/>After that he had pressured Sam into going to a little road trip with him, only two days, and Sammy persisted to take his computer with him to work on an essay or something like that. </p>
<p>So far so well, they were on their way, sun shining, warm wind blowing in through the opened windows, old songs playing from the radio. <br/>It was nice and familiar in some ways. <br/>But Sam was getting restless. Some “I can’t concentrate in here.” and “It’s so hot, why isn’t the air conditioner working?” and “Why do we have to go on a two day road trip again?” here and there slowly festered to “Take a shorter route, there is this book I need that I can only get at the college library, we have to shorten our trip, Dean I’m sorry, but I really need to finish this. It’s not like you didn’t know about it.” </p>
<p>And Dean had nodded and agreed and when they had stopped at some diner and his brother was using the restroom, he lost his reason. Before he knew what was going on, he had, with a heavy -<em>heavy</em>- heart, he had pulled a bolt out of the seats inside the diner and stuck it into baby’s front wheel. </p>
<p>The Winchester never believed he would stoop so low. A tragedy. <br/>About ten miles on the road and the wheel gave up, it pained him. “Why are we stopping?” Sam asked, eyes focused on the word document in front of him. </p>
<p>“I dunno, there is a flat tire.” Dean mumbled and Sam’s eyes widened, “What?!” they got out and looked at the damage.<em> Poor baby.</em> “But how?” </p>
<p>Dean leaned forward, as if he had no idea “A bolt, damn.” He cursed and felt slightly bad for lying. </p>
<p>“Oh no.” Sam turned away, hand running through his long hair exasperatedly. They were in the middle of nowhere.  </p>
<p>“I’m gonna exchange the tire.” Dean exclaimed, rolling his sleeves up and taking his spare tire from the trunk and the needed tools. </p>
<p>“Yeah.” Sam mumbled with an unhappy undertone, which Dean ignored in favour of getting started.</p>
<p>They didn’t speak for a while, and Dean decided that his panicky reaction was probably stupid and only hurt his baby. Cursing silently to himself he made sure to at least take his time. </p>
<p>Sam was the first to speak up, he was sitting on the hood of the black Impala, looking around. “Hey, what is Dad up to exactly?” there was this weird tone that Dean couldn’t identify but guessed was apprehension. <br/>Sam and Dad had parted in a fight. Dean could remember it as if it were ingrained in his soul, it may have been. Their faces, filled with the ugliest emotions, made them look like beasts clawing at each other. Back then, Dean knew that whether Sammy stayed or left, this argument wouldn’t be forgotten, and the wounds might never mend. He wondered if they knew that too, back then, but he wouldn’t bet on it. They reminded him of magnets, too similar, so they pushed each other away, but what did he know anyway. </p>
<p>“I told ya. Man of habit. He’s good, I think. You know him, living the dream. Sleeping in his car, eating fast food and scaring strangers.” He chuckles and Sam grins, though it is rather stiff. </p>
<p>“Are you and Dad still as close?” he asks then and Dean isn’t sure how to answer. As much as his brother and his Dad fought, the three of them were a team and -even more so- a family, and when Sam left, he took a part with him. A hole in his father’s chest Dean could never fill, however he tried and struggled to do so, and Sammy took away a part of Deans soul, that he didn’t care to admit to anyone, not even himself. He wondered if Sam lost something, too. But his throat was tied shut when he thought about asking. </p>
<p>“Nah.” He hummed out, acting uninterested, “You know I got a job, can’t really travel much.” It’s a weak excuse. When Sammy went to Stanford it was World War 3, unimaginable for anyone to ‘leave’ the family and now Dean had a small apartment and a job. He wasn’t with Dad anymore either.</p>
<p>But it was different. Because Dad -and Dean admittedly-, had clung to Sam, who only wanted to have some freedom, and when his brother was gone, it was only a matter of time until Dad -more and more each day- disappeared as well, and Dean build a life. He called now and then, visited now and then but was gone most of the time.</p>
<p>“Dad just let you go?” Sam sounds weirdly hoarse. And Dean didn’t want to answer, for his and Sammy’s sake. </p>
<p>“It just… happened, ya know?” he answered, not allowing himself to mumble, because he was Dean Winchester and he wasn’t afraid of confrontation. “You know Dad, don’t you? He is gone for two weeks, comes back for a few days and leaves again for another week, with or without you. Whatever he feels like. Maybe I was just the extra hand, making sure <br/><em>you</em> don’t kill yourself accidentally.” He grinned cheekily “And when you left, you took my job with you.” </p>
<p>He’s joking and Sam hits him playfully and -thank god- asks no more questions about Dad. The older Winchester just doesn’t like the weird tension that comes up when it’s about Dad. Like the electricity in the air shortly before a thunderstorm. He’s happy when it passes without heavy rain and lightning and booming thunder all around him with no shelter. He always thought he left the natural disasters behind when Sam and Dad disappeared.</p>
<p>“I think we’re good.” Dean exclaimed then, getting up, putting his tools away and taking his place behind the steering wheel, his brother let himself fall into his own seat with a thump and taking his laptop back out to type again. They didn’t talk for a few hours and it wasn’t uncomfortable.<br/>After a while they started joking around when Sam decided to take a break from working on whatever. </p>
<p>Only about an hour of driving was left when Dean spoke up “Hey, Jessica, can I like, get to know her?” </p>
<p>Sam raises his eyebrows “I told you about her.” Is all he says, leaning down to take a water bottle from the bag and drink something. </p>
<p>“Yeah, I mean, you did. But I’m talking ‘bout meeting her.” The dark blonde explains casting a look to the side, trying to gauge his brother’s opinion.<br/>The following silence makes him feel almost nauseous. </p>
<p>“Sure, I’ll ask her.” Sam eventually says and the grin on Dean’s face is so bright it nearly hurts. “But don’t embarrass me.” He adds and Dean grips his chest in mock hurt. </p>
<p>“I <em>never</em> embarrass you!” he exclaims shocked, but aware that he might as well do. Sam looks at him disbelieving before huffing out a little laugh. </p>
<p>“Try to make a decent first impression, is all I’m asking.” Sam explains anyway and Dean nods. </p>
<p>“Don’t worry Sammy.” Dean assures, earning a hit on the shoulder “Ow!” he yells, and Sam justifies: “And don’t call me that!” Dean only chuckles. </p>
<p>For the rest of the time they talk about things like Dean’s -according to Sam- bad music taste, how Uncle Bobby is doing and why Sam is working out.<em> Health.</em> He had said and Dean had dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “You are reckless.” Sam had mentioned then “You will have a heart attack or something similar with 46 and you will die, Dean.” He prognosed, and Dean grinned “I’m sure I will.” </p>
<p>They were back in the apartment by then, it was past midnight already, Dean sat on the couch, and Sam was about to go to bed as well. “Goodnight.” his younger brother said then, giving him this warm smile and it felt like a memory from the past for a split second, making Dean’s heart constrict painfully. “Goodnight.” He replies and the moment is gone as quick as it came but the significance made the room feel as heavy as Dean’s heart for the next hour either way. And the Winchester feels all weird- all unhappy because of this technically happy thing, he hates it, he shouldn’t feel this way! Why is he feeling like that?</p>
<p>It’s late or early, whatever way you look at it.<br/>His phone is buzzing aggressively on the table and Dean grumbles loudly when he realizes it won’t stop anytime soon, before reaching out to answer it. “H‘llo?” he mumbles, before he even opened his eyes, still cuddled in the twist of his blanket. </p>
<p>“Dean. It is good to hear your voice.” There is only one person who talks like that. </p>
<p>“Cas’siel?” his words still slurred, hoping he can hang up and sleep on. “I know this is an unusual time to be calling, and I do not even intend to ask you about another… movie night is what you called it.” </p>
<p>The Winchester waits for Castiel to go on, but there is a pause and he decides to push his friend a little “What is it?” slowly gaining consciousness, he opens his eyes to the darkness in Sam’s living room. </p>
<p>“I… my brothers decided to have a get together or rather a- like a party I think.” He stutters confusedly and it’s true, Dean can hear the muffled voices and bass from music in the background. </p>
<p>“Great.” He mumbles. “What’s the matter?” he asks though, because he knows the brown haired enough to assume that a party might make him uncomfortable, but he is not sure. </p>
<p>“I am unsure. Here are many people, and I do not think I now any of them. I just found two people copulating in my room so I do not believe I will get a lot of rest today.” </p>
<p>Dean huff’s out a laugh “Wait, did I wake you up?” the blue eyes inquires now, and Dean can hear the worry. </p>
<p>“You kinda did, but don’t worry buddy.” There is another pause and Dean- he just has this <em>hunch.</em><br/>“You want me to come over?” Dean asks into the silence.</p>
<p>And eventually “Would you?” and Dean smiles, because Castiel is such a pure soul “Of course.” He assures. </p>
<p>They say goodbye for the moment and he gets up, his back hurts from sleeping on the couch for days, joints popping disgustingly, he almost falls because the blanket locks him in, but manages to not split his head open accidentally. Blindly he puts on some jeans and whatever plaid he has lying around in reach. Only when he is sitting behind the steering wheel of his car is, he fully awake and able to make his way over to the Novak house.</p>
<p>There are a lot of cars, and he has to park his baby somewhere down the road, so it takes him a while to reach the building. For a second, he contemplates ringing the doorbell, but he doubts anyone would hear it over the noise from the inside. Luckily, the decision gets made for him when the door opens by itself and two drunk strangers stumble out, giggling, and disappearing somewhere into the night. Dean takes his chance and goes inside. There are a lot of people, no one he knows, no surprise. </p>
<p>He pushes through the crowd of crazy drunk and drunk and crazy people, trying to avoid showers of beer, wildly flailing elbows and hands and most people in general. He’s not really sure where to go though, where could Castiel be? Looking around, he tries the living room where they watched the movies, first, but nothing was there. Somewhere in the crowd he spots the guy that opened the door for him when he came over, Castiel’s brother. What was his name? </p>
<p>Dean makes his way over to the small long-haired man “Hey” he says loudly so the music doesn’t drown him out. The man turns around sizing him up for a second, before recognition dawns on his face. </p>
<p>“Cassie’s friend.” He points at Dean, who nods “Yeah, hey do you know where Castiel is?” he immediately asks. Gabriel- Dean remembers- looks at him with a glint of mistrust for a long moment before he points up the imposing stairs “On the balcony.” He supplies, now he looks at him daringly, and Dean knows this look and behaviour, because he himself is a big brother, so he has no hard feelings.  It takes him a while, to find the door to said balcony, but he does and Castiel is there sitting on a chair. </p>
<p>“Hey.” He greets while taking place in the seat next to the Novak. </p>
<p>Castiel turns to face him, smiling a little relieved smile “You came.” He points out and Dean grins “Of course.” He had closed the door, the noise was only a buzz in the background anymore and the moment was peaceful in a way. <br/>Dean felt it was silent enough to hear every word the other said and it made him feel close to Castiel, not in a physic way, but just- close.</p>
<p>“So what, too many people or is the music not your taste?” the Winchester inquires and Castiel shrugs and takes a deep breath “Both, I believe. I am unsure if you can call this music.” </p>
<p>And Dean can’t help but chuckle at Castiel’s insult. “Ain’t my taste either.” He agrees anyway. </p>
<p>“It confuses me. It is always the same, every song and within every song and while music is about rhythms and repetition, I don’t know.” Castiel doesn’t look at him anymore, his eyes focused on something Dean cannot see. </p>
<p>“I think…” the dark-blonde tries to find an explanation as to why Castiel dislikes the music “Maybe because it is all similar. I mean- I dunno, but aren’t the exceptions from the rule -the unexpected maybe- what makes music… exciting? Mixed with the repetitions, I mean. At least for most, I guess.”</p>
<p>Castiel’s face doesn’t give away what he thinks about Dean’s words except for a low hum and his typical squint of the eyes. It makes Dean feel a bit antsy, if he were to be honest, so he laughs to cover it and adds: “But they don’t really wanna hear the music down there, I think. They want to dance and drink and have fun, the music is just for the background. Also, taste differs so what do we know huh?” he grins and Castiel turns to him once more “Maybe you’re right.” He agrees. “It’s not my taste though.” Dean chuckles, leaning back and staring up into the dark sky. </p>
<p>“Tell me about your family.” He says quietly.</p>
<p>“Well, there is my Father” the Novak starts “Where is he right now?” Dean interrupts, but Castiel isn’t too offended “A meeting. And then there are my brothers, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Gabriel, who are all attending the get together” Dean huffed out a laugh at the inconvenient term for the party “And I, who is here with you.” </p>
<p>Castiel stops for a moment “What do you want to hear?” he questions. </p>
<p>“Doesn’t really matter.” The Winchester only mumbling anymore, the tiredness creeping back into him, but he wouldn’t fall asleep. </p>
<p>“Michael and Lucifer are twins. They are polar opposites and always fighting but they cannot be without each other.” </p>
<p>Dean has to laugh and speaks his thought “Like Tom and Jerry” another pause before: “What?” Dean rolls his eyes “A cartoon.” He is smiling anyway. </p>
<p>“They are difficult, all of them, but they are my brothers.” </p>
<p>He understands that “Yeah, homicide might be an option but not the answer.” </p>
<p>He jokes, Castiel thinks for a moment before he is smiling “That was a joke, right?” and Dean weighs up whether he should push it further, but decides against it “It was.” and he is just as proud as Castiel seems to be feeling. </p>
<p>“You’re getting better dude.” He praises. </p>
<p>“Come on, tell me more about that weird family of yours.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to everyone for commenting, the kudo and reading. Enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“At the age of 12 Gabriel managed to make one of his teachers quit their job.” </p>
<p>Dean started laughing in disbelief “What?!” and Castiel’s expression is just as serious as ever “It is the truth. My Father did not tell me how he did it, but it was no question whether he did it. She named him in an explanation letter as to why she quit.” Dean was wheezing. “I assume it was Lucifer’s bad influence, he has been teaching Gabriel his unorthodox ways since he was a toddler, and though he turned out to be a real- I think they call it a <em>prankster</em>- Lucifer is a bigger danger. They once had a disagreement about who was better at what they are doing, it was… unsettling.”</p>
<p>His stomach started hurting by now, but Dean found it difficult to get a grip. Castiel’s serious and mostly emotionless presentation only made it more hilarious. “But… they are funnier than my other brothers. I enjoy Michael’s and Raphael’s presence, they are simple and have often the same view as I do, but every now and then I enjoy the company of Lucifer and Gabriel more, they are a terrifying duo but definitely interesting.” </p>
<p>And Dean hums in insight “Like music, you know what we talked about, similarity and differences ‘n shit.” He supplies and Castiel nodded, seemingly agreeing with him. “And what are your -no offense, but- boring brothers doing on the daily?” Dean inquired, leaning back again and enjoying the night air. </p>
<p>Castiel casts him an annoyed look “They are not boring, just-” he was interrupted “Yeah I know, save your breath.” The Winchester earned himself another unhappy look, causing him to shrug. </p>
<p>“Michael is working at a bank, he is in an administrative position, Raphael is a tax investigator.” </p>
<p>“Ah, the big bad guys.” He jokes. </p>
<p>“My brother is studying Law. Stanford.” He says then, proud. “What about you?” Dean speaks up. </p>
<p>“I work at the bank as well, but not in a position of power.” The brown haired explains. “What do you do?” Castiel questions him now. </p>
<p>“I am a mechanic, back in my hometown Lawrence, though. I visit my little brother, making sure he doesn’t turn into a complete hippie.” Castiel’s eyebrows furrow. </p>
<p>“How long are you going to stay here?” the Winchester crosses his arms and closes his eyes. He doesn’t know how to answer, honestly. </p>
<p>“Not sure.” Is all he says, not really up to dissect the reason for his stay. His hand automatically starts to fiddle with the hem of his plaid shirt, a nervous habit of his.<br/>And Castiel doesn’t ask and Dean is grateful in silence. They don’t talk much after that, each lost in their own thoughts. </p>
<p>Eventually the sun starts to rise and the noise from inside quietens down. “You know, Cas” his voice is rough from not talking in a while and the cold night air “you’re a great guy.” </p>
<p>He grins at his friend, who turn to look at him with a surprised expression, before he squints his eyes “Cas?” </p>
<p>Dean’s smile brightens “Yes, Cas. Castiel sounds so, I dunno’… formal? Ain’t my style.” He shrugs and Castiel smiles, only a bit.</p>
<p>The Winchester leaves a while later, falls down on the couch back at Sam’s and is out like a light.</p>
<p>The next time he regains consciousness is around 3 pm and he decides to take the dogs for a walk. His brother is gone, doing god knows what, but he is back by the time Dean walks through the front door. </p>
<p>“Thanks for walking the dogs.” Dean nods. “You were asleep for a long time. I was wondering when you would get back to old habits.” Sam jokes and Dean elbows him out of spite, opening the fridge, hoping to find something edible. </p>
<p>Of course, he is disappointed “Oh my god Sam, what is wrong with you, why is there no food?” he grumbles. </p>
<p>Sam gives him one of his ‘duh’ bitch faces and mumbles “Just because you don’t know how to cook. Or eat anything else than fast food or canned stuff. Look in the back of the fridge, there are some leftovers.” </p>
<p>Which makes the older one point his finger accusingly at the other and say “Hey! You always enjoyed what I made for you.” </p>
<p>“Yeah because I knew no better, because Dad is irresponsible.” Sam says and Dean was a bit taken aback. </p>
<p>“Dad is not irresponsible, he had to keep the business running.” He tries to justify but the younger has no intention to let him “No, Dean. Cars are everywhere. He doesn’t have to travel the whole country for that. We both know he just packed us in the trunk and made us house at motels for weeks alone because he couldn’t take staying back where Mom died. And he couldn’t take looking at all that she left behind,<em> us.</em>” </p>
<p>The words were sharp and agitated and they stung “Dad cares about us!” Dean weakly responded.</p>
<p>“Yeah, maybe he does, but he cares more about himself.” And Sammy sounds so bitter it makes Dean’s insides twist. </p>
<p>“That’s not true, Dad gave everything for us.” And a part of him believed in it. </p>
<p>“Oh no, we gave everything for Dad. And at least I managed to leave before he ruined my life just like yours!” and wow, that hurt, Sam has the decency to look guilty. </p>
<p>“My life is not ruined, just like yours wasn’t about to be ruined. And what is that supposed to be? An excuse for you just- leaving?! You didn’t say goodbye and <em>fuck</em>- Sam, you didn’t even bother to call or at least pick up your damn phone to let me know you’re okay!” he was yelling right back now, speaking the words that were running through his mind since the most horrible night, right after the one where his mom died. They had been stuck in his throat ever since he saw his brother for the first time in years and he couldn’t coax them out for the life of him and now they were just tumbling out without him wanting to.</p>
<p>“I had to leave, Dean! Do you think it was easy, that I didn’t <em>miss you?</em> Why won’t you understand that?” the brown eyes looked at his green one’s in a way that made the older Winchester stand straighter to appear more composed. </p>
<p>“I understand that you had more hopes for the future, but I don’t understand why you had to leave us behind.” <em>Me behind,</em> a part of him whispered. </p>
<p>Sam looked at him incredulously “Honestly? We both know that Dad wouldn’t have allowed me to have both, family and my own future.” The further this -long due- conversation got the more Dean got angry. </p>
<p>“Yeah but-” it was hard to say and the anger left him and made space for complete and utter hurt. <em>What about me?</em> He wanted to ask, but just couldn’t.</p>
<p>“Why are you even here Dean?!” Sam yelled, fixing Dean with a stare.</p>
<p>Dean swallowed, feeling insecure in an ugly, ugly way. </p>
<p>And Dean remembered what happened a few months before and decided, this was it. </p>
<p>“Because I don’t wanna be alone anymore! Fuck, Sammy, I just- I don’t see any fucking hope for this anymore, okay? I- I have tried everything, I mean…<em> everything!</em> I call, I drive here for hours just to help you out. Nothing seems to work and I… I nearly gave up, okay?” eyes burning with tears not worth shedding. “You, you and Dad, you mean everything to me,” it was a hopeless breath “and it just hurts to know that you don’t give a fuck about me. I had a car accident a few weeks- or months, whatever, before I came over, and I- I tried to call you. I just wanted <em>anyone</em> to answer the phone for once, to help <em>me</em> for once, how fucking <em>selfish</em> is that?” he chuckled desperately, raking his fingers through his hair. <br/>“And I- I don’t think I’ve ever felt as hopeless as I did that night. I was so close to just giving up, Sammy. But I- I just couldn’t.” Dean took a deep breath, not looking at Sam anymore. “You- you are all I’ve got. And I know I shouldn’t be so fucking dependent on people, who clearly don’t depend on me, but-“ he made a pause, the words were rushing out on their own, but it was still so hard to get them out “I just wish- You know what? Forget it.” There was no anger in his voice, only a weird lightness. “It was about time I get it, wasn’t it?” he nodded, as if convincing himself. “This is really hopeless. And it really is time to give up finally, isn’t it?” another deep breath, all tenseness leaving his body, as he looked back at his brother, who just stared back at him. </p>
<p>Looking at Sam, it was hard to stop his heart from squeezing painfully. “You don’t want me to be a part of your life and that’s okay. I won’t bother you anymore.” There was defeat in the young man’s voice, but a reassuring smile on his lips “It’s true what they say about‘em growing up too quickly” a weak joke “But I’m proud of you, you know? Always been. It’s hard not to be.” The warmth that filled his big brother’s eyes almost made Sam flinch. “You grew up under shitty circumstances with a deadbeat family and now you’re here.” Dean looked around, almost the same way he had looked around when he had visited the first time, two years after Sam had entered Stanford, after Sam had called back for the first time in two years and after 27 voicemails and even more calls. Deans eyes flickered back to Sam. He smiled, just as proud as promised, but hurt in a way that didn’t sit right with Sam. </p>
<p>“I hope the future is as bright for you as you deserve.” </p>
<p>And then Dean was gone. <br/>Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, making the guilt shake in his stomach. He hadn’t even realized when his brother left.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for the comment, thanks to everyone reading, enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <strong> 4 months ago </strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Giving. Giving too much. Giving up.</p>
<p><em>That’s how it went,</em> Dean realized. The thought turned up all of a sudden in his eerily empty mind that felt like sticky and heavy molten chocolate. This string of thoughts must have really fought through, he would have chuckled at that, but it seemed way too exhausting to be worth it right now.</p>
<p>Where was he again? Oh right. Giving. This was probably the most inconvenient moment to come to this silly and useless idea. What annoyed him most, was that he left the second stage hours -minutes, seconds?- ago, until he realized that this was possibly his dead end. Or was it? How did you know that? </p>
<p>People in movies always just knew. Knew everything, when they had to fight, when they had to let go or when to say what or even how to feel. That’s crazy. Nobody knew that much about life. Or maybe only Dean didn’t know. There was a lot Dean had absolutely no clue of. </p>
<p>For example, what the point was once again? Right. The whole giving-thing. More so, the last stage: giving up. It made him feel so uncomfortably hollow. Had he reached it already? Was this the point where he did exactly that, giving up? He didn’t like that thought, not at all. But he was so tired. And- was that anger? No- no it was frustration, yeah. Why was he frustrated again? </p>
<p>He opened his eyes and closed them immediately when they hurt. Woah, bad idea. Deciding to keep them closed for now he tried to remember why he felt the way he did. The memory was jumbled just like his mind. </p>
<p>His phone in his hand, Dean had been trying to call someone. Anyone, really. His brother had declined the call, when trying to reach his Dad, it went straight to voicemail, one of his old friends, Daniel, still had him blocked and the other old friend from high-school, Mark, had answered only to tell him that he missed him and that they should hang out again, but that he was busy right now. Mark has always been popular, it felt like he was even more so nowadays. Claire, his girlfriend, had not answered either. When calling Bobby’s, it went to voicemail as well. Devastated, that’s all he has been. And then he had let it be. Arms too heavy, head hurting from- exhaustion? Why had he tried to call anyone? </p>
<p>Oh yes. </p>
<p>Flashing light in the dark night, a force throwing him around, panic making his heart seize, shattering glass, screeching of tires, a lot of sound, light and darkness in quick exchange, almost making him dizzy, turning and tossing, pain, pain,<em> pain. </em></p>
<p>Nothing at all. </p>
<p>The memories made a dull sense of panic arise; he should do something. </p>
<p>The Winchester reopened his eyes, forcing them to stay open. He didn’t feel anything, not a single part of his body. Was it bad? Who knew, it didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered right now. It was mostly dark, still night. Faint light, from wherever, made it possible for him to see the outlines of raindrops shining at him in a blue tone from the window next to him. It was interesting to look at. He never really took the time to look at something like this. For the first time in just very long -and he had to admit this to himself now, because otherwise he might never would- he felt at peace. But then it hit him again. </p>
<p>
  <em>Giving up. </em>
</p>
<p>It twisted itself through his bones and flesh, deep into his heart. Winchesters didn’t give up. <em>This</em> Winchester didn’t give up. At least not like this. He was a strong person, he had fought through a lot of things on his own. His break-up with Lisa, Moms death, facing Brody Jennings, by far the tallest <br/>and broadest and most angry guy the high school had ever seen. </p>
<p>Through sheer willpower, Dean forced his heavy limbs to move. Head turning,<em> Sammy and Dad fighting on Thanksgiving five years ago,</em> hand grabbing for his abandoned phone,<em> his math teacher yelling at him in front of the whole class,</em> pulling the arm back,<em> putting Dad back together after Sammy left for Stanford.</em> He made it. A grin tugged at his lips. What was the number again? Right. </p>
<p>He called for help. Talking was way too difficult. The woman kept asking where he was and what was going on, how to help. It’s not like Dean knew. “I am tracking your location sir, okay? Help is on their way. Everything will be fine. Can you tell me where you are hurt?” Dean nodded in his delirious state of mind, then looked down on him, every movement was so much effort. </p>
<p>“Dunno.” Dean mumbled. “Jus’ so tired.” His words were slurred, was he drunk? </p>
<p>“I know, but you cannot rest yet, you hear me, just wait a little longer, okay? You can do it. Tell me something about you.” The woman offered. </p>
<p>“Mhmm.” Dean made an agreeing sound but not much followed. <br/>He frowned, what was going on?</p>
<p>“I know this is hard, but you got to keep talking, only a bit, okay?” he flinched at the sound, having forgotten that he was talking to- who? Oh right, the woman from the emergency stuff. </p>
<p>“’kay.” He rattled through his brain, what could he say? “Dean, that’s- uh that’s me. I- I dunno what happened but I- I might remember, remember and forget things all the time right now. Not all the time, jus’- jus’ now. Ya know?” he paused. Was talking always this difficult, it sounded like he was drunk. </p>
<p>“You’re doing so great. Dean is a nice name, what about your family?” Somewhere in the back of his head he knew she was trying to keep him awake by keeping him talking, but this only felt like it was making him fall asleep faster. </p>
<p>“M’ family…” Dean mumbled and smiled a bit. “They’re great. My- My brother, Sammy, he- he is really smart, ya know? So smart.” Dean let his head fall back to the left side so he could keep on looking at the window with the shimmering blue raindrops. Every now and then there was light flashing by. He was so focused, he didn’t even notice how his hand lost its grip around his phone, or how it fell down somewhere between glass and some papers he needed for his boss. </p>
<p>The woman asked repeatedly for him, reassuring words pouring out of her like a waterfall, Dean noticed when he zoned back into the situation. He wished he could hear it. He would never admit it, but he really wanted some positive words right now, some hope, as fear began to build and coil somewhere behind those big layers of mental bubble wrap. The Winchester just wished for someone to guide him through this, hold on to him, and if he wasn’t so goddamn tired and unable to care right now, he might have reached for his phone. Reached for the company and reassurance of a stranger. But frankly, he didn’t care. Not enough. He couldn’t remember when his eyes fell shut.</p>
<p>“He’s back!” it sounded too far away, still he looked up at the ceiling, nothing recognizable there, except for the light maybe. “Hey, can you hear me?” Dean shifted his eyes to the man on his right, he wore way too bright colours. Wait- he was a paramedic. That’s good. Blinking profusely to get a clear view, he felt his body give in to sleep again. Good. Way too stressful being yelled at.</p>
<p>The next time he woke up, Dean was in a hospital. The doctor smiled at him. “You were lucky.” </p>
<p>A drunk driver had hit him on his way back home from Sam, somewhere close to Kansas. The woman had barely survived. He had gotten a concussion, a broken arm and many bruises. He looked pretty bad in the mirror, but all in all he was relatively fine. <br/>His car was not, but he could fix it. When they asked who would be helping him when he was discharged stayed unanswered for some time. He had asked to make calls.<br/>Sam was no option, he was all the way in Stanford, so he called his dad first. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry son, I am about seven hours away from you right now. Can’t you call Bobby?” </p>
<p>“Sure Dad.” He kept the disappointment from his voice.</p>
<p>Dean called Bobby then and he’d lie if he said it didn’t hurt. “Dean, what did you want?” came the gruff but friendly voice Dean knew so well. A smile growing on his face. </p>
<p>“Hey.” And he was silent. For a moment, he just sat there, taking a deep painful breath and a sad grin etched onto a bruised face. And Dean didn’t know what hurt more. </p>
<p>His broken, shaken bones or the fact that Bobby, not related to blood and no best friend from high school, picked up the phone, not hanging up on him and just waiting for Dean to say whatever it was he had to say.</p>
<p>“I’m in the hospital, Bobby.” It irked him how much he sounded like he was seven again, telling the man that practically raised him that he had broken the windshield of his truck.</p>
<p>“What? Dean what happened?!” he took another breath. </p>
<p>“It’s not that bad. I- I kinda got into an accident on my way back from Sammy. A drunk driver hit my car. Only my arm is broken, and I’ve got a concussion. It’s better, I’ve been here already for a while, umm. Listen Bobby, I know you might be busy, but could you like, pick me up?” </p>
<p>“Of course, you idjit!” Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. </p>
<p>Bobby, reliable as always, picked him up, took him to his place, to make sure Dean wouldn’t kill himself, as he described. Ellen, Bobby’s wife, nearly hit him when they arrived, before she gave him a strong hug and told him to be more careful. It really warmed Deans heart, even if he tried to brush it off. While recovering, under the watchful eyes of the Singer family, except Jo, who moved out two years ago, he managed to get his baby back. His car looked bad, really bad. And that wasn’t just because of the scarily amount of his dried blood over the driver’s seat. </p>
<p>But Dean fought through. He removed the dents and the broken windows and the damaged parts. It took a lot of time, effort and money, but Dean managed to get his baby back. And he made a decision. </p>
<p>He would try one last time to reconcile his relationship with his brother, and with that, he made his way back to Stanford.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for the kudo and reading, I know the chapter is rather short, I am sorry, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After getting a new tire for his baby, Dean was on his way back home to Kansas. </p>
<p>The Rock music on highest Volume and the engine of the Impala didn’t manage to ease his mind though. The memories from earlier that day just wouldn’t let go of him, the voices echoed in his mind and it almost felt like it did the night Sam went to Stanford. He felt troubled and uneasy and he hated that feeling.</p>
<p>When their mom died, back when Dean was four and Sammy only a few months old, it had changed everything. <br/>Dad just didn’t know how to cope, and Dean has made it his responsibility to do it for him and Dad had made it his oldest son’s responsibility to care for Sam, because Dean was a grown boy and Sammy was just a baby. </p>
<p>So, that was what he did. All those years and in all those years the tension between father and the youngest son had grown until it exploded. When Dean thought back, he knew it was because they were so <em>unhappy</em> and so <em>terribly alike.</em> Those stubborn idiots would never admit it, but that’s just how it was. <br/>Sam wanted to break free from the confines of rules and restrictions Dad had set up and he wanted to do his own thing.<em> Like Dad.</em> He wanted to be heard and respected.<em> Like Dad.</em> And two of those people getting up in their space in those extremes was just too much, it was only a matter of time until their poor arrangement would break down, Dean realizes. And he had bent and torn, pulled and pushed himself into every direction to make up for their unhappiness, to quench their anger and make them get along and be a family. But they weren’t. </p>
<p>Not anymore, at least. </p>
<p>And in the end, maybe he had gripped too tightly, let go too much and now there were only ruins left of what had been his only home. <br/>Dean loves both of them more than himself even in moments like this, where he was all on his own, completely aware that Sam wouldn’t call to try and make up and that his Dad had no clue about what was even going on right now. But this time was different. Because this time Dean wouldn’t come back to mend whatever was broken even when his hands started to bleed from the sharp edges. This didn’t happen overnight, he realizes, switching the song.</p>
<p>Sure, the years up to the point everything went downhill had worn him out, but that was because he had to try and keep their family together. When Sam left for Stanford, left him without a glance back, he had to try and deal with his pain as well. It had changed their relationship. Something he tried to deny, but it was true. It died in every phone call Dean made that was unanswered, every desperate voice mail with no reply and every rejection Sam made to his past life and family. The older Winchester couldn’t put him at fault. If he got back into contact with Dean, he got back into contact with Dad, and that would end bad. Dean wished- he just <em>wished</em> that they could get along just once, just for his sake. <br/>Truth is, it was exhausting, and Dean would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t relieved when it finally took an end. The separation was horrible, Dean didn’t know what to do with himself, because Sam has always been and will always be his first priority in life, but the peace was nice. And it would stay that way. The healing peace and the burning and hurting separation would stay, because he wouldn’t come back, and it would never be like before. </p>
<p>And if he was being honest with himself, his relationship with Claire, his girlfriend, was dead too. She hadn’t answered his calls or texted him back either in over five months. She was living in New York now, had her own life, somewhere, where there was no space left for him. It was time to let her go, too. He will miss her, really, he honestly loved her, but he couldn’t fault Claire for leaving him behind. Other people could start to be your baggage easily and she was a woman that couldn’t be tied to somewhere she wouldn’t return to. He was the past and she headed for the future. That’s okay, it had to be, because it would tear his heart to shreds if it wasn’t.</p>
<p>He turns the volume of the music up and starts to sing his heart out to <em>AC/DC.</em></p>
<p>It’s not like Dean had to bother. It didn’t matter anymore.</p>
<p>And it’s not like anyone is out there to see the tears rolling down his face anyway.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you as always for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Leaving hadn’t been easy. </p>
<p>Sam loved his family, for all his life he was preached that family comes first no matter what. But he didn’t want to end up like his Dad had. It was no future for him, and Dad had made clear that it was either them or his future. He had yelled at Sam that, when he left now, there was no way to come back and the youngest Winchester knew he wouldn’t be able to stay forever, there was no reason to prolong his long outdated stay. </p>
<p>It hurt. </p>
<p>All of it. </p>
<p>The fight, turning around and leaving, not answering Dean’s calls and listening to his voicemails, but there was no way to come back. That was what he told himself, until he caved and called his brother and the excitement and happiness in Dean’s voice made him shrink in embarrassment for his behaviour. Sam really tried to make it work then, as good as it could, but something was different and no matter how much he tried to force himself to think otherwise, he still saw Dean as the past, the past he wanted and <em>had</em> to leave behind. As if said past would capture him and cage him right back in, and he would never be able to break free again.</p>
<p>His brother didn’t make it easier, he seemed to hold onto the way it was so dearly it must hurt. Sam didn’t get it. It wasn’t good before, it wasn’t even decent, so why couldn’t he just let it go? </p>
<p>Dad has always had an iron grip over Dean, his good little soldier. Maybe Dean was unsavable. Maybe he had been too long under their father’s influence. </p>
<p>Still. Sam didn’t want to let go. He would remember his happiest memories from growing up and Dean was there for each of them. For every soccer game, cheering the loudest in between a bunch of white-picket-fence stay at home moms, even when his team was losing. He had driven Sam to his first date in seventh grade and picked him up when it went to shit in the middle of the night at a cheap ice-cream palor. Dean had fought his bullies and in return been to detention for weeks and took dads outraged yelling without batting an eye or asking anything in return. His brother had his back, all his life. <br/>He had watched him grow, he had raised him, fed him and protected him, even in times where they didn’t get along. When Sam would think about Dean, he saw someone who was strong and reliable, no matter what. Losing him, more and more over the years was ripping him apart and he was so angry at himself for being so angry with Dean because he was so angry with their father. </p>
<p>He could never understand how Dean could have so much faith in a man that took and took and barely ever offered something in return. It’s not like Sam hated his father, but he wouldn’t lie to himself. John wasn’t made to be a parent, not after mom died, anyway. Maybe they would get along in a few years, but right now their relationship was running on thin ice. They needed space from each other and sadly, that meant space from Dean for a while too. Dad and Dean almost always came as a team, until now it seems. </p>
<p>And then he couldn’t take it anymore and he called him and asked his brother to watch his dogs while he was for a trip. He needed to see him again but just for a moment or two. And then he stood in front of his door again and wouldn’t leave. Sam was torn. He couldn’t take Dean’s presence, but he missed him so badly. And now he was gone again and this time it was different. Maybe because this time Dean left and not the other way around. But to be honest, it was the way the older Winchester had looked at him, the tone of his voice that made Sam wary and told him, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Dean wouldn’t come back, wouldn’t leave voice mails, wouldn’t even call. </p>
<p>Maybe that was a good thing. Dean deserved better. Better than their careless father and better than a brother who pushed him away again and again and got angry for no explainable reason. Maybe Sam was the one who couldn’t let go of the past. </p>
<p>And he was sure, that he would miss what annoyed him. Dean and all of his quirks and faults. All of his childish antics. But he couldn’t reach out for his slowly detaching brother, because he finally managed to escape the hopeless confines of the life his father had decided for him and if he turned around now, he might never break free again. Dean would understand, he had to. Would be happier too.</p>
<p>Weeks passed, no call. Sam tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore the guilt tearing at his heart.<br/>He was out on a walk with the dogs in the nearby park, when he spotted a man in a trench coat watching him.<em> Strange,</em> he furrowed his brows, deciding to ignore it. Instead he focused on the events that plagued his thoughts since Dean had disappeared. </p>
<p>Part of him wondered if it felt the same for Dean when Sam went to Stanford as it had felt for Sam to see Dean give up on him too.<br/>But what grabbed his attention was more what Dean had said. That he didn’t want to <em>be alone anymore,</em> that <em> no one answered his calls when he was hurt in an accident</em> and that he <em>almost gave up.</em> It didn’t sit right with Sam, he hated those words. Dean wasn’t supposed to feel like this and how could he have not known his brother had- it was horrible. </p>
<p>Maybe it was true, maybe he had neglected Dean too much. He should have answered his phone when he called. The guilt was eating him up, gnawing on his bones and chewing his insides. Dean had always been there with him and he- Sam had let him down and Dean had come back to him anyway, only to be brushed aside until he said his final goodbye to him. It shouldn’t have to end like this. “Hey, you.” Someone tapped his shoulder, he turned around, slightly annoyed. Can’t the trench coat man see that he is busy? </p>
<p>“I know those dogs.” His agitation diminished and left space for nothing but confusion. What was that supposed to mean? </p>
<p>“What?” he asked back, looking at the blue eyed, dark haired man. But the stranger fixated him with a serious stare. What a weird guy. </p>
<p>“Your dogs, I know them. Not personally. But a friend of mine was walking them here. Do you know him perhaps?” was this some kind of joke? </p>
<p>“Are you talking about… Dean?” </p>
<p>He nods curtly “Yes.” How did Dean know this guy? </p>
<p>“How do you know him?” Sam questions and the stranger has the audacity to look at him confused and repeats a little bit slower, like Sam was stupid “Like I said, he walked the dogs here.” </p>
<p>Okay, he wasn’t being funny. “I got it the first time, but why- forget it. What do you want from my brother?” Sam gave up discussing minor details and focused on the important information. </p>
<p>“Oh, so you are his brother. A pleasure to meet you. My name is Castiel, Dean and I are friends. Your brother left and since then we are barely holding up contact, I want to meet up with him.” He explains, serious as ever. </p>
<p>“You want to meet up with him because he doesn’t reply to your messages enthusiastically enough?” Sam questions. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t call it that. I have a good intuition and I think I should meet up with him.” Castiel seemed so sure of himself that it was off-putting. </p>
<p>“How do I know you are not a stalker or a serial killer?” the blue-eyed man’s expression changes into understanding “You can ask your brother.” </p>
<p>And Sam maybe shies a bit away from that, to embarrassed by his actions, so he only says “No, I believe you. But sorry, I can’t help you, he went back home.” </p>
<p>Again, he earns himself a look that clearly tells him the guy thinks he must be stupid “I know.” And again, the slow way of speaking. </p>
<p>“Yeah, so I can’t help you.” </p>
<p>Castiel seems to be annoyed now, turning his head slightly in agitation “No, tell me where he lives.” He demands. </p>
<p>Sam shakes his head “No, you are a stranger, I can’t just tell you where my brother lives.” The blue eyes squint slightly “But you just said you believed me?” Sam decided this was it, he turned around and made his way back home, the dogs were growing restless. “You can just come along. Visit your brother too.” The strange man offers and Sam halts. “Would it not be nice to see him again? He speaks so highly of you, that I assume you two share a strong bond.” the words twisted themselves into his chest like a screwdriver.<em> Of course. </em></p>
<p>“Okay, fine.” He gives in, unable to push back the urge to make sure his brother knew what he meant to him and that he wanted Dean to be a part of his life. That he was just as proud, because, Dean’s life wasn’t easy either, and he managed to be a good person anyway. </p>
<p>“If you try to kill me, I will kill you.” He threatens, exchanging his phone number with Castiel’s. </p>
<p>Two days later they are in Sam’s rental car on their way to Kansas, on Christmas day, even. <br/>“Dean didn’t say anything before he left, do you know what his intentions were? Or did you tell him you wouldn’t turn into a…<em> hippie</em>?” </p>
<p>Sam almost hit the brakes “What?!” before running a hand over his face in desperation “Yeah, that’s Dean.” He shakes his head with a grin. He can hear Dean say something like that in the back of his mind, with a cheeky grin and careless attitude and, god, Sam is such an idiot.</p>
<p>Castiel wasn’t spontaneous. Not in any way, never in his whole life. Lucifer liked bringing up how he once started crying as a four-year-old when they decided to get fast food for lunch instead of cooking something like planned. Just one example and just one thing his brothers used to make fun of him with. Being the youngest was not easy. </p>
<p>But he was here. In the car with a man he didn’t know on his way to a friend who he knew for only a few weeks, for most of those he wasn’t even there, on Christmas day, unplanned. Castiel had no inkling as to why. There was just this profound bond between him and Dean and something told him that he should be with his friend now. It was in the way he had left, in the way he replied to texts curtly and less happy. </p>
<p>And Dean was different from most people he met in his life and Dean shouldn’t be sad. <br/>When Castiel asked him to come over in the middle of the night, he did, now he would return the favour.</p>
<p>But what was it that was so different about the green-eyed man?</p>
<p>Dean smiled in a way that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle and Castiel thought that it was endearing in a weird way. He appeared to be a rough man, someone who takes matters into his own hands and gets things done, not scared or worried ever. But there were moments, just a few, very scarce, that most people would have missed when they weren’t as perceptive as Castiel. In those moments Castiel saw that he had a big heart and was sensitive in a way. </p>
<p>You see, Castiel was aware that he wasn’t someone who fit into the norm, had been shown so many times, and he never expected a guy like Dean would waste a breath to even speak to him for a longer amount of time, but he did. Castiel loved his brothers, and he didn’t worry that they loved him as well, they stood up for him whenever someone made snarky remarks in his direction, gave him strange looks or similar, but something in the way Dean treated him was different. <br/>The Winchester appeared annoyed every now and then when explaining things, or confused by his behaviour, but he still took the time to reach Castiel, to make sure he was on the same level of understanding as the others were and making him feel like he was not so abnormal as he sometimes felt. </p>
<p>When he remembers the last night they met, he remembers how Dean came over and stayed until the sun rose, simply because Castiel felt awkward at home when there were so many strangers and he took his mind away from the uncomfortable feeling in his belly. He asked for nothing in return, just gave. </p>
<p>Dean could appear like a no-chick-flick-man (a term the Winchester had established) all he wanted, it was obvious to Castiel how much he cared about the people that meant something to him. If it was in the way of spending the night and offering company, in explaining strange sayings or jokes or even in giving him a movie that he might enjoy simply to make him happy, to give him a chance to find the same comfort that Dean found in movies. Dean Winchester was a good person, or at least he was a good friend and Castiel wanted to be the same for him.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello again, thank you for everyone who left a kudo and to all of you who are reading, enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s not that big of a surprise.” Dean says idly, taking a long drag from his drink. Bobby huffs out a bust of air before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He looks unhappy. </p><p>They are sitting in Singers kitchen late at night, Ellen and Jo, who came over for the holidays, are asleep already. The ceiling lamp casts a sallow shine on them. Dean is shifting a little in his seat before he smiles at the man with the beard and the old cap. “Come on Bobby. Don’t let this day end like this, take a drink.” He pushes over the empty glass and refills it with liquor. He watches the grumpy old man reaching out to take the drink, still fixing Dean with the expression of a silently brooding man. Deans smile widens. At least Bobby doesn’t change.</p><p>“John could’ve moved his ass over here for Christmas.” He grumbles into the drink before downing it. Dean’s smile falters a little, before he slips it back up. </p><p>“Nah Bobby. That man didn’t spend his son’s birthdays with’em, now why should he spend the birthday of Jesus with’em?” he laughs, though a bit forced. Bobby rolls his eyes. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know. Greatest father out there.” He fills his glass up again, as if he needs to drink his desperation away “Those darn Winchesters.” He huffs. </p><p>“Hey!” Dean calls out in mock offense, before another grin grows on his face. “It doesn’t matter.” he says then, leaning back in his own chair, timid expression. “I like spending my Christmas here with you way more anyway.” He shrugs, turning back to his glass. </p><p>It is silent for a moment and when Dean looks back up, Bobby’s features have softened, and he looks at the younger one so warmly it makes Dean feel fuzzy. </p><p>“I’m happy ya’re here with us too, son. The door ‘s always open ya know?” </p><p>Dean tries to fight the happy smile “I know. God, that’s enough chick-flick. Come on Bobby, drink something.” He says, refilling the glass. Bobby nods, obviously agreeing, and the tender moment is gone as soon as it arises.</p><p>Later that night, the doorbell rings and Dean rises from the couch, back hurting, to stumble to open it. “H’llo?” he says before he even really sees who is standing there. </p><p>In the dark night in the warm yellow light from the lamp on the front porch, new snowflakes floating down on top of the ones already stuck in messy hair and thick coats, stand two people. A cold gust of wind comes along, wafting snowflakes into his direction too, covering him slightly and almost chilling his bones, if it weren’t for the warmth coming from inside the house. </p><p>“We were at your apartment first, that is why it took us so long.” Castiel speaks, as if that is what is surprising Dean so much. As if it wasn’t his best friend and brother standing in front of him in the middle of the night on Christmas evening in the middle of a snowstorm on Bobby’s front porch. </p><p>His eyebrows knit together in confusion “Why are you here?” he asks, before thinking better of it “Come inside.” He offers, but they are not moving. Castiel turns to look at Sam, who hasn’t said anything yet, and who Dean avoided looking in the face before. But Sam is just staring at him with those big brown eyes. </p><p>Castiel takes the lead again then, making Dean’s eyes snap back to his friend “I thought I’d be concerned in the first place, but no. I am just mad.” He says, face displaying frustration and Dean almost backs away, surprised by the onslaught of emotion. “Sam told me what happened.” The blue-eyed man states and for a second the older Winchester turns his attention back to his brother, who still didn’t do anything. </p><p>He turns back to Castiel and upon seeing his agitation he jumps right back into consolation mode “Look, Cas. I get you’re mad that I left without saying goodbye-” but he gets interrupted “No, Dean. I am mad because we’re <em>friends</em> and you didn’t tell me you needed help!” the man’s voice raised and part of Dean worried the others in the house would wake up and another part of him felt like he had gotten repeatedly punched in the stomach. He had never believed Castiel was able to- yeah, to <em>yell.</em></p><p>And then, Castiel made a step forward and another one, and he was so mad, part of Dean worried he would be punched for real, but instead cold arms reached around him and held him in the only Castiel way Dean knew – awkward and fierce. </p><p>He’s cold and the molten snow makes his shirt wet but it’s okay. Dean hugs back slightly, unsure how to behave. Castiel’s breath is fanning his neck agitated and Dean pats his back weirdly in hopes to calm him down. His friend presses him closer for a second, almost pressing the air out of Dean’s lungs.<br/>
Then Castiel lets go, looking at him intensely and Dean kind of wants to shrink, but forces himself to hold his ground “We’ll talk about this later. Now you two should talk for once.” And then he passed Dean and stomps angrily into the house. The Winchester doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know the blue-eyed guy was able to express so much emotion.</p><p>“Hey.” Dean mumbles then, looking at Sam, who might be frozen. “Hey, come inside, yeah? You’ll get a cold.” He tries once more but Sam doesn’t move. Just stares at him, brown eyes looking at him with an emotion the older can’t quite grasp. He reaches out, grabbing the younger one’s coat, softly pulling, letting go when he realizes it is not making him budge. “Come Sammy.” He almost pleads and this seems to get his brother. Sam breathes out heavy, shoulders sinking, giving away how tense he had been, was maybe. The tall one’s lips open, as if he is trying to say something, before he closes it again, looking away, somewhere above Dean, breathing out again, another puff of air visible because of the cold. And he looks tired then and Dean almost asks again for him to come inside, get warm and rested.</p><p>“Dean,” Sam’s brown eyes stare right back into his green ones again. “I was wrong, and I was too harsh. I didn't treat you like you deserved. Honestly I don't know what's been wrong with me these past months, I-I was just so angry all the time, because of Dad, and I know it's not an excuse but... Do you think you could forgive me anyways?” His voice breaks, the light reflects in the tears gathering in his eyes. Sam breathes in shakily. Dean’s heart twists uncomfortably. Everything inside him urges him to move forward, gather his little brother in his arms and tell him that all is good and there is no need to worry. </p><p>“I know I shouldn’t have taken out my emotions on you, you’re not Dad, you aren’t to blame for his mistakes. I was just so- so <em>angry,</em> and…" he pauses "And I know it didn't come across that way but I missed you, you're my brother, how couldn't I? The thought that this was it and we're parting ways forever now seems unbearable to me and I hope you can forgive me. You are an incredible person and I looked up to you my whole life and I want you to be able to rely on me like I relied on you, I know that's not how it came across lately" he laughs in a self-depricating way "but it's true." </p><p>Dean knows he can rely on Sammy, and in the end, he was the big brother it was his job to- “All I want to say is, I'm sorry, and I hope you can forgive me and we can finally leave all the bad things in the past and... I don't know, have a fresh start, together, as family. And if you need some time alone, or don't want to after everything, I understand and I will respect your decision, but please, Dean, give me one more chance and I will prove to you that I can be the brother you deserve."</p><p>And all Dean can do is mumble "You will always be my brother you dumbass.", because it's true and everyhing feels unreal in a way, making his heart tumble in his chest at the heartfelt words, making his eyes burn with tears. All tension leaves his younger brother now, before he comes forward and hugs Dean closely.

"I'm sorry Dean." Sam says again, holding on tighter, as if he is afraid Dean will disappear any second. The older holds his little brother just as tight and after a while he breaks away, trying to wipe his eyes secretly, mumbling with a wobbly voice “Okay, enough feelings for today, let’s go inside now.” Sam starts to laugh, still a bit teary eyed.</p><p>They see Castiel sitting in the kitchen with Bobby across from him. “Did we wake you up? Sorry.” Sam apologizes and Bobby shakes his head before standing up and grabbing both boys to give them a warm fatherly hug. </p><p>“You two are making an old mans life way too nerve-wracking. I’m going back to sleep now. And you better stay quiet before Ellen wakes up.” Then he’s gone again. </p><p>“I’m tired.” Sam says, looking at Castiel, nodding and saying goodnight to both of them. A smile still on his lips.</p><p>Dean lets himself fall into Bobby’s vacated seat. The Winchester leans back, arms crossed, and eyes fixed on Castiel, who looks straight back. </p><p>“We’re friends.” The brown-haired states again and Dean can’t help but grin “Of course, Cas.”</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know I'm late, oh my god, I am so sorry! I hope you enjoy the little epilogue, thanks to everyone who left a kudo and comment.<br/>This is it, and I hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you for giving it a chance and reading so far, I hope I can improve in the future!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on now.” Dean hurries to grab his bag, checking one last time if he has everything with him.</p><p>“It’s not like we can be too late.” Dean complains, putting on his shoes. </p><p>“We said we’ll leave at ten.” Dean rolls his eyes, so what if it’s already two and a half hours past ten?</p><p>Dean takes his leather jacket and takes a step back to look around, he smiles then and turns to leave. He locks the door and jogs down the stairs where Sam awaits him. He opens the Impala, stores his bags and sits behind the wheel then.<br/>
Sam and he are going on a road trip, they decided that when Sam is on break, hey would both go and spend some time together, before ending it at Sam’s place. There Dean would stay for a week or two, while Sam works on assignments or whatever and Dean meets up with Cas and Crowley. It doesn’t always work smoothly. They fight sometimes, but it’s natural for brothers to fight, especially when they are all the time together in a confined space and they try to make it a habit to work through their issues.</p><p>It’s a bit like in the old times, always on the road with the Impala, eating in Diners and sleeping in Motels, but it’s also so different. There is no underlying tension anymore, maybe when they have a little fight, but otherwise Dean feels like a heavy weight was pulled of his shoulders. Also, they don’t drive around with Dad repairing cars, but they visit whatever they always wanted to visit. Some history museum Sam has always wanted to see, but never found the time to, a car show Dean has only seen on TV, but now gets to see live. They show a lot of Oldtimers.<br/>
So, they make it work, somehow. And Dean is happy, really, truly, genuinely <em>happy.</em> Like he hasn’t been in years and Sam’s happy too. Maybe Sam going to Stanford wasn’t only one of the toughest moments of Dean’s life, and Sam’s too, but maybe that was also what they needed. The road to where they are now has been rough, but they made it, and really, sometimes life knows what it’s doing, even if it’s not going to make it easy for you.</p><p>Things are good how they are.</p><p>Sam closes the Impala’s door and smiles at Dean, and Dean smiles back.</p><p>He’s really fucking happy.</p>
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